


If you gave me a chance I would take it (It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it)

by Antigone2



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: AU, F/M, I'm so sorry, coffee shop AU, ugh i hate myself, why am i writing this??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigone2/pseuds/Antigone2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It came from a prompt on tumblr for asshole OTPs.  A snarky barista, a harried intern, a vanilla chai latte and sexual tension.  With extra whip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (i'm sorry)

It's the kind of exhaustion that screams for caffeine before you even open your eyes in the morning.

The kind of exhaustion that makes you wonder why you ever took that stupid internship at the politician's office (her policies are good but she's such a hardass, especially to her interns), except that you want to help people and give back to your city but fuck that if it means crawling through six miles of shit just to get to a starting point. 

You know who else helps people? Kindergarten teachers. Why didn't I chose that track of study instead of barely passing PoliSci and getting an internship in Haruna's campaign thanks to the totally BS 'good word' of my father's journalist boss?

 So anyway, I only go into the coffee shop out of a desperate need for caffeine. Caffeine but not coffee - gross. I never liked coffee's insidious bitterness that snuck through even the most sugared up concoction out there. But caffeine? Yeah, that I like.

 "Yes, of course, standard layout, that's what she wants," I realize I'm next in line at the counter, while still trying to coach our newest intern into not royally fucking up the ad campaign, and digging through my purse for my wallet and scanning the menu for something that wasn't coffee but still caffeinated. "No, no, don't do anything until I get there. I can't-"

 "Order please?"

 "Um, one tall chai extra shot of vanilla, whipped cream, thanks," I read off the menu and hand him my credit card.

 "Name?"

 "So the email went out with the old campaign posters," Naru is saying in my ear, "but we were up until all hours last night working on the new one and the place won't-"

 " _Name_?" the cashier says again, maybe with just a little too much edge to his voice because it's not like I'm actually  _trying_ to be rude.

 Seriously? I'm probably the  _only_  one getting a non-coffee drink, I'll know which 'extra-vanilla chai with whipped' is me, thanks. I know it's horrible of me but I roll my eyes and point to my phone and yes, god, even _I_ hate myself right now but  _c'mon._

 Haruna is a dragon boss and I refuse to come in this morning to a public chew-out and my subsequent firing from her stupid campaign for not fixing the problem with the posters because I was too busy chatting up the cute barista - who by this point finally scribbles something on my cup and moves onto the customer behind me.

 "Whatever you do, wait until I get there," I tell Naru and hang up, and dig for the business card of the copy place to see if I can put out this fire before it spreads.

 "Um… vanilla chai? for…" the girl makes a strange face and I just take the cup from her with a quick nod, already waiting for the stupid copy place to answer my call.

 The sharpie scrawl on the cup makes my mouth drop open and I send a glare right to the cashier, who happens to look at me, amusement in his bright blue eyes. He smirks at me, gesturing upwards with his eyebrows at my hairstyle before going back to giving change to the person in front of him.

_Chai, Van., x-tra whip: **Odango atama**_.

 Is he  _serious_ with this?

I don't care how really cute he is, (because he's really fucking cute ok), because I'm not in the mood for anything that isn't magically fixing this whole campaign poster disaster, so I just stick out my tongue in a vision of maturity and poise, and march out of the coffee shop.

I mean, a vision of maturity and poise who then proceeds to spill half the contents of her purse all over the sidewalk and struggle to pick it all up while balancing her hot beverage cup in one hand and her cell phone between her face and her shoulder, all while weaving through the most obnoxious automated answering system of all time.

I must be a masochist because I can't stop myself from looking through the windows to see if anyone saw, and sure enough the dark-haired cashier takes time out of his busy morning rush to give me a raised eyebrow and a smug half smile.

 I hate him and his stupid gorgeous eyes and I really hate that my chai was really goddamn delicious - because I guess that means I have to go back tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

So the next day I'm completely determined to make it through the line unscathed, give my name, get my chai, head on my way like it's no big deal. I certainly refuse to become the obnoxious cell-phone customer.

But of course my phone rings right as I'm coming up in line and it's Haruna herself and I have to answer it. And it's that same dark-haired barista again, and his lips are already pulling into a smirk.

 Ugh, ugh, why.

 So here I am, my boss in one ear, giving my drink order in a hiss with my hand over the phone's microphone.

 "Name?"

 But I just shrug in annoyance, before going back to assuring my boss that yes, I am planning on coming in and yes, I did bring the demographics presentation with me on a flash drive.

 He sighs and shakes his head like he wants to tsk-tsk at me. "Odango atama it is then," he hands the cup over and takes my credit card, with that obnoxious half-smile right into my death glare.

 To make matters worse, I stumble over someone's bag as I walk to pick up my drink and almost go flying. Again.

 I send a quick glance to the register and although he's already counting someone else's change, the twist of his lips makes it obvious he saw everything.

 Oh my god, chai is  _not_  worth this aggravation.

 

* * *

 

But I go back to the coffee shop because of freaking course I do.

The next time I'm there, someone else is taking the drink order so my name gets done correctly. My usual tormentor is stocking products in the back so I don't talk to him.

But I do notice his nametag says "Mamoru", and for some reason I end up committing it to memory. And I even find myself wondering later that night if it lends itself to any semi-insulting nicknames I could write on coffee cups.

I find myself thinking of him a lot, which is super disconcerting, until I remember that he is  _very_  attractive, and this campaign has made me pretty much a shut-in (my friends are always complaining they never see me anymore) so it's not like I see cute boys all the time, especially not  _that_  cute. So I give myself permission to daydream a little, maybe about someone with Mamoru's face and body but an actual not-horrible personality.

* * *

 

Then I come in one morning and the cashier is a handsome blond guy I think I've seen there before. I give my name and get my chai in an easy, efficient manner and don't see Mamoru at all. It's a nice change, at least that's what I tell myself.

* * *

When I find myself stopping by the next afternoon, Mamoru is back at work, and the same blond from the other morning is beside the register, putting on his apron.

"I got this, Motoki," he says when I walk in, and I notice he reties his apron quickly as he walks up to the register. "Vanilla chai, extra whip?"

"Good memory."

"I'm a man of many talents," he picks up an empty cup and flips it up a little, and lifts the marker.

"Name?"

I make a show of looking around the nearly empty seating area, the lack of people in line behind me. "It's literally just me here."

He raises his eyebrows and frowns. "Uncooperative," he mutters, as the sharpie files across the cup as if he's writing my final grade.

Because it's not busy, he makes my chai and hands me the cup directly. I tell myself that my fingers brushing along his as I take the cup could _totally_  be accidental. But he  _does_  have super gorgeous hands. Ugh, what a jerk.

"Odango atama: the nameless," I read off the cup. "Clever."

"You better get going, Mamoru, or you'll be late to class," the other man, Motoki, says.

I feel the need to say something witty and my mind comes up completely blank. "A class on what? Remedial social skills?" I say, in a saccharine voice. Shit, that wasn't even funny. But Mamoru laughs.

"Close," he says, taking off his apron and walking around the counter. "Biochem."

"Mamoru's pre-med," Motoki says, saddling up the cash as a new customer enters the store.

Interesting. I never really thought of him outside of career barista'ing. I mean, besides daydreaming every so often about what it'd be like to kiss that smirk off his face (in my daydreams, I'm super bold and searing hot, like a blonde Megan Fox. And Mamoru is, well, he's the same only with less obnoxiousness clouding his hotness).

Anyway, it was kind of cool to know something more personal about him - although I wasn't sure why.

"Guess we can't  _all_  be poorly compensated interns for a local politician," I say, lifting my chai up to him in a mock-toast.

"So, you interested in a career in politics, then?" Mamoru is folding his apron and putting it up in a cubby.

I take a deep breath and shrug a little. "Yeah, I mean, I like local government as a means to positive change... but then the nitty-gritty of the national political debates can bore me sometimes. When it isn't making me angry."

Mamoru nods and opens his mouth when Motoki clears his throat and looks pointedly at the clock. "Dude. Biochem."

He smiles at me as he leaves, "See you later, Odango atama."

* * *

 

The next time I see him it's morning rush and he's already punching my usual into the register when I make it to the front of the line.

"The name's Usagi," I say, but it's just a few seconds too late, he's already scrawling a novel on the side of the cup and hands it off to his coworker.

Mamoru shrugs with exaggerated helplessness. "Nothing I can do, I already passed it along."

I can't help sighing. R _eally?_

His voice is directed over me, to the man standing behind me. "What can I get started for you, sir?"

That's how I ended up with a chai latte with a vanilla shot and extra whipped cream for " **Atama, Odango, intern**."

"He's flirting with you," Naru says when I show her, in exasperation, how the man  _apparently_  can be top of his class pre-med but can't retain a simple three syllable name.

"He's not flirting, Naru," I roll my eyes, grab a file folder of voter phone numbers to start the campaign calls, "he just teases me all the time. For, like, stupid reasons in kind of cute ways."

"See, now I'm wondering if you understand the definition of 'flirting'," Naru answers, before she grabs a folder herself and puts on a headset.

* * *

 

I don't have to be at work until later on days after late nights and big events, so that's how I found myself getting my usual vanilla chai (extra, extra whip, since I didn't have breakfast) closer to lunchtime after yesterday's press conference.

It's a girl I don't recognize who makes my drink but I am surprised to see Mamoru at one of the tables in the dining area, pouring over a textbook.

I'm debating whether or not to say hi (no just kidding, I decide right away not to bother with him, but for some reason I still stand there looking at him like an idiot. Help me.), when Mamoru says, without looking up, "Hey, vanilla chai latte extra whip," he turned a page, and finally looked up. "No phone today?"

I make a face and sit down across from him because at this point he deserves all the crap I can dish out. Only, I can't think of anything witty and scathing enough so I just frown at his book. "Biochem?"

He shakes his head, "Infectious diseases."

"Fun." I take a sip of my tea.

Mamoru looks up and smiles. "Flesh eating bacteria can't be any more disturbing than city politics."

I can't help but laugh. "Okay, point." I cross my arms on the table and rest my head on them. "What type of doctor do you want to be?"

"I think I'd like to be a pediatrician," he says, and I'm super angry because what kind of heart-melty answer is that? "But I won't know for sure until after medical school, when I get to try different fields."

It's the most we've ever said to each other and I'm astonished he hasn't been a smirky asshole even once (well, barring that phone barb when he first saw me).

"Well, I guess I should let you get back to studying...?" I mean, I don't want to jeopardize our friendly-small-talk record. Mamoru looks up and gives a half-smile.

"Eh, I could use a break. Tell me about your job."

We actually chat for a while, until my phone rings (Mamoru smirks at that, jerk) and it's Naru wondering where the hell I am. I guess I was pushing the "allowed to be late" envelope a little by that point.

"Well, I'm off the save the world, one tax payer at a time," I say, standing. "Enjoy your gross germ book."

"Have a good day, Odango atama. Don't trip over anything today."

Oh well. It was fun while it lasted I guess.

* * *

 

The morning after our talk, I came into the coffee shop (I mean, of course I do. I seriously have not been spending money on anything fun because all my extra cash is going into vanilla lattes. The part of me that realizes that I'm not going there for the chai also acknowledges how utterly pathetic that is, and so I tend to ignore it).

"And one vanilla chai and extra whip cream," he confirms, with a crooked grin. He writes on the cup with a flourish. "Usagi."

It's morning rush, and I'm actually running quite late so it's not until I'm out the door I realize he  _still_  didn't write my name on the cup.

Instead, it says " **Usa-ko**."

Un-fucking-believable.


	2. Chapter 2

So I end up at campaign HQ on Sunday evening, just getting some stuff set up for the next day and it's hot as hell in that small store front.

I decide to talk a walk for some evening air, but the intense summer heat hasn't yet dissipated. I'm sweating after a block even though it's after dinnertime. Awesome.

I make it as far as Mamoru's coffee shop before I decide to turn around. I thought they might be open (they have a fruit smoothie that would be really delicious right now actually) but of course the closed sign is up and the dining room lights are off. Oh well. I get ready to cross the street and return to HQ when I hear my name. And I know that voice.

"Wow, I thought you didn't know my name," I say, titling my head at Mamoru, who is leaning against the now-open coffee shop door, giving me that half-smile that I despise. The one that makes my stomach drop into my feet. "Oh, wait," I add, "it must be that you just can't _spell_ my name?" Zing. His half-smile turns into a full grin.

"C'mon in," he nods his head toward the open door. "It's cool inside, I'll get you a water."

Sure, I'll just go into a closed coffee shop with some guy I barely know sounds perfectly legit. Of course I do it, though.

I mean, he said he'd give me water and air conditioning, okay? That's the only reason.

* * *

It's actually sort of fun to watch Mamoru close down the shop. He can't let me help even a little bit for "liability reasons" (not sure why it's okay I'm sitting here sipping water after hours and watching him wipe the counters and take out the trash but I'm not going to question it), but we chat as he goes through his chores. And I'm _shamelessly_ checking him out, I admit. His hands are really nice, but his arms aren't bad either, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows so he can wash the steamers.

He suddenly stands up from emptying the small fridge under the sink, and I have to quickly school my features to make it less obvious I was staring at his ass. Goddamit, Mamoru.

"Want some whipped cream?" he says, holding up a half empty can.

"Um- _hell yeah_ , I do," I open my mouth and empties about half of what was left in the can into my mouth, so that he can also get a mouthful out of the can before tossing it in the trash. I'm laughing hysterically at the sight of Mamoru eating whipped cream directly from the can. "Do they know what you do here after closing?"

"Hey, I'm _very_ trustworthy," he says, with a wink. He hold up the trashcan so I can toss the empty water cup into it. I miss, spectacularly, but Mamoru doesn't tease me, he just smiles.

After he's done behind the counter, he and I go sit at a booth along the wall. I rest my arm on the table next to us and try not to focus on how close I am to him, our arms and hands nearly touching.

"So..." I say, acutely aware of his closeness, despite my best efforts. "Thanks for the water. And, ya know, the company."

"Sure," he says, but his voice isn't quite normal and I look up to see him looking at me so intensely I'm wondering if I have some whipped cream or something on my mouth, _oh god, do I?_ I reach up to the corner of my lips, my fingertips cold on the heat of my face. "Um-"

With a hitch in his breathing, Mamoru takes my hand in his and pulls it away from my mouth, his fingertips stroking across my palm. My nerves are screaming and I hope Mamoru has some preliminary medical training because I'm honestly not sure I'm going to survive this.

He leans toward me slowly, without fanfare, like he's not even aware of what he's doing. Mamoru actually stops a hair's breadth from my lips, I can feel his breath on my face and it's uneven, shallow.

This is going to freaking kill me. I'm about to open my mouth to ask him what the heck he thinks he's doing, teasing me like this, when he finally kisses me and all synapsis in my brain go into some sort of supernova melt-down for a good fifteen seconds.

He smells like coffee but he tastes like chocolate. His kisses start featherlight and build in intensity until I'm eagerly keeping pace with him, running my hands up his arms into his hair, and yes, oh my god, it is totally as soft as it looks.  Mamoru stops kissing my lips for a moment, sliding his cheek against mine and pressing his lips to my neck with a soft moan and I have to say something before I completely lose it.

"Wait," I say, shaking my head and pulling away slightly. He stops what he's doing and pulls back, looking at me with concern. He's still trying to catch his breath.

But, as much as I'm enjoying myself, I don't want to be responsible for getting him fired. "Is this okay to do? Won't you get in trouble?" I mean, maybe they have security cameras or something _I_ don't know.

When Mamoru realizes the nature of my concern he lets out a breath and gives me that famous half-smile.

"Nah, I do this all the time," he says.

He plays it straight for just a beat too long before grinning at my expression and it's so infuriating and so adorable that I can't decide if I want to curse at him or kiss him some more. Mamoru leans in, and makes the choice for me.

He runs his fingertips down my cheek, to my neck and threads them through the soft hairs curling at the nape of my neck while he kisses me. It's so tender and gentle and sweet but incredibly sexy at the same time.

_Oh, I am in huge trouble._

We are literally sitting in a booth, knees bumping together, elbows pressing into the table. Honestly, it's not the setting I'd picture for the most amazing, ridiculously hot make-out session I've ever been a part of, but I mean, I'm not sure how much of this I _would_ picture? That is, that my barista would be a snarky jerk who I can't stop thinking about, and who is also a phenomenal kisser. With really soft hair - for real, I can't stop touching it, curling my fingers around the back of his head. I don't want to stop kissing him.

I edge myself closer to him and the table falls over with an earth-shattering bang.

We both startle violently and I expect this is where he jumps up and we part ways with a 'what were we doing?' and 'gosh, how awkward.' I realize I'm half waiting for this to happen but Mamoru looks at the table, shrugs, and pulls me up onto his lap without a second thought.

 _Oh thank god_ , I think, as I wrap my legs around him and press my lips to his again. I am not ready for this to be over. And it's actually a lot more comfortable without the table there, actually.

It is a long time before the passionate kisses turn softer, before his hands slowly come back to my shoulders, to my face, and I link mine loosely around his neck. He breathes out softly as he pulls away from me, a soft expression on his face. 

I moisten my lips and sigh.

Mamoru smiles a little, brushes some wayward hair back from my face. I suddenly wonder how long he's wanted to kiss me like that, if it kept him up at night the way it did me. A little shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

"So, um..." I start, not sure what I'm supposed to say. 'Thanks'? 'That was awesome and I really hope to do it again'? 'You are a super talented kisser, congratulations'? Instead, I brilliantly mumble, "It's late and I should probably go."

"Of course," he says, a little breathlessly. He rakes a hand through his hair, which has become adorably ruffled and his nervous gesture only makes it worse. God, I want to kiss him again.

_Hold it together, Usagi, goddamn._

"When can I see you again?" I ask, "I mean, in a non buying-chai-from-you situation?"

Mamoru pauses for a moment an expression I can't place flitters across his features, just for a second.

"Did Motoki tell you about the party here?"

He did, in fact. The employees at the shop are throwing Mamoru a graduation party thing on Saturday night, they are closing early for it and everything. But it's the same night as a gala fundraiser for Haruna, and I have to be there. But maybe I can duck out early, if I call in some favors from Naru.

I really want to meet Mamoru's friends and coworkers, I want to stand there at his arm, as his guest... and yes, jeeze, I really want to kiss him again. "I might be late, but I'll do my best to come," I tell him.

 

* * *

 

I miss the graduation party. I don't know why I thought I wouldn't. The gala ran late and even if my ducking out on clean-up (sorry, Naru! I think), and running all the way to the coffee shop in heels, I didn't make it. The lights were out and the doors were locked and this time Mamoru wasn't there to unlock them for me.

I sighed and leaned against the doors, angry and disappointed. I wonder why I didn't just think to give Mamoru my phone number. My brain was all scrambled from his ridiculously unfair kissing talent. Now I'm out three dollars for a chai tea every hour for the next few days until I see him at cashier again. Ugh.

* * *

 

The next morning Mamoru isn't there, and but Motoki is. I apologize for missing the party Mamoru invited me to, and ask when he'll be working next (I'm about two hickeys past caring what Motoki thinks of me stalking down his friend's work schedule to be honest).

"Oh, tomorrow's actually Mamoru's last day," Motoki says, as he takes the order of the next in line. "He's leaving soon."

"Leaving?" I tilt my head curiously. "Like for summer break?"

Motoki laughs. "Like for a semester. He's got a Fulbright grant for biomed research at a university in London."

_Wait, what?!_

"Oh right, that," I pretend like I knew all along, like I wasn't completely turned on my head with this new information.

Motoki says some more stuff, but he's still pretty distracted with actually doing his job, since they are pretty busy. I decide to let him get back to work.  He doesn't even notice when I leave.

I'm so out of it at work that Naru pulls me aside and demands to know what's wrong.

I shrug and say it's nothing.

Because it is.

The whole thing was nothing.

Mamoru _knew_ he was leaving, so what was one indiscretion with a flirty customer that he'd never have to see again?

I am _so_ angry at myself for building this up, _so_ angry at Mamoru for playing me, so _angry_ because angry is so much easier to feel than the sharper feeing rising up just below it in my chest.

* * *

I show up for Mamoru's last day. I have no idea why. I mean, the chai lattes are delicious but Starbucks is literally down the damn street.

This time on the cup, along with 'Usako' (still not my goddamn name), he's scrawled his phone number in that familiar writing that's been teasing me for weeks straight.

Oh, _hell_ no.

I march right up to the cashier station, not caring I was elbowing paying customers out of the way, and shoved the cup at him in annoyance.

"What is _this,_ Mamoru?" I say, "Is this so I keep in touch while you are galavanting around London? Why? In case I get a sudden craving for sub-par coffee shop customer service?"

I'm being _incredibly_ mean, and utterly unfair to him, but I can't bring myself to care.

Mamoru gives a half shrug, looking at me almost sadly and I'm _so_ _enraged_ that he is standing there feeling _sorry_ for me after _he_ started this whole thing. After _he_ teased me, after _he_ kissed me, the entire time knowing he's about to be leaving the country for half a year.  And that I had to find out from Motoki, like he wasn't even going to _tell me_.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I hand the cup right back to him, chai and all. He fumbles a little in surprise.  I hope the people in line are liking the show. I can't even bring myself to care.

"Usako-"

Don't you _dare._

"Stop looking at me like that, I'll be fine," I snap at him. "This isn't the only place in town to get a fucking vanilla chai."

I leave without looking back, and don't trip or drop anything. It should be when the movie soundtrack swells and everyone runs up to give me triumphant high-fives.

Instead I just felt like utter crap.


	3. Chapter 3

Of course, life, as they say, goes on. As the fall comes, election season ramps up and I'm so busy with that plus school that I hardly have time to think at all, let alone grieve the demise of my not-a-relationship with my snarky former barista.

My awesome friends are also there whenever I need cheering up, Mako-chan with food, Minako with jokes, Ami with distractions and Rei with tough-love. Instead of going to another place for chai latte, I get by with black tea I make at home - not as good, sure, but cheaper.

The only thing is, every freaking day on the way to Haruna's HQ I pass that damn coffee shop. And every day I know Motoki would cheerfully update me on how Mamoru is doing, or even give me his contact info in I asked (or at least pass mine along to him). At first I resisted out of pride, but as time went on I stopped even being tempted to ask.

The last thing I want to hear about is Mamoru and his new British girlfriend making out at Big Ben or something. I don't know. I try to stop thinking about him, because I know he isn't thinking about me.

* * *

 

Election night is one of the most intense things I've ever been a part of. The HQ turned into party central, balloons and punch and cookies and tons of champagne toasts - after the results were announced. It wasn't unexpected that Haruna won, but it was all kinds of awesome. Our hard work paid off, and, despite her hard outer shell, Haruna has principles - she'd be good for our community.

I get tipsy but not drunk, and make it home in the wee hours, exhausted and happier than I'd been for a long time.

The next day I'm nursing a slight hangover but I rally and head to the old HQ, to start take-down. Naru texted me she was already there, and to come by asap because if she has to be up this "early" than I sure as shit better be, too. And I can't really argue with that.

I walk to the HQ building, ready to go inside and join Naru, but there's someone there sitting at one of our small tables outside. I stop walking and let my mouth fall open a little.

Mamoru smiles and I'm _so_ out of my element because as much as I thought I remembered every little damn thing about him, the reality of seeing him in person still throws me. His hair looks a little longer, but surely his eyes could not have gotten even more blue.

"Congratulations on the win," he says. He has two coffee cups beside him on the table, both with the logo of his former place of employment. "Just so you know, I _did_ vote, by absentee ballot."

"What-"

He holds out a coffee cup like a peace offering. "The usual," he says, and I take it, making damn sure my fingers brush against his. The cup is lukewarm and I wonder how long he's been waiting.

"So, has it been six months already?" I say lightly, as if I didn't know full well it hadn't been. As if I hadn't been counting the days, even if I didn't want to be.

"Two and a half," Mamoru says, with a smile that says he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He is still looking at me, like he can't take his eyes off me and I'm not sure how I feel about it.  For a long moment we just look at each other. 

"I want to apologize," I say, finally. "I was so mean to you when you left. That wasn't fair."

"No, you were right to be angry," He said, looking at his hands. "I should have controlled myself better around you."

 _Um._ "Or you know, just been honest with me," I say. "That you weren't looking for anything real, since you were leaving-"

"I almost didn't go," he says, abruptly. That brings me up short. "So don't think this wasn't 'real', okay?"

I'm about to ask why, but he looks at me in a way that answers my question already.  I take a nervous sip of my tea and, damn, even cool it's really delicious. I'm sure Mamoru would make a good doctor but he may have really missed his calling.

"I like having plans, Usako," Mamoru is saying. "And I had a plan, a good one, set up from day one." He pauses. "You really kind of messed that up."

"Gee, so sorry," I mutter with sarcasm but no venom. I know what he means.

"I originally thought I'd stay overseas for quarter break, but-" he trails off.

"You came back just to see me," I say it as a joke but he looks at me and gives a nod.   _Oh._

I am again brought to silence. Suddenly, after almost three months of convincing myself that what we had was a silly flirtation that meant nothing to him, he's here to completely rewrite everything.

He says he's in town for a few days, and won't be back for good until he finishes his research, he thinks around wintertime. "I don't want to go back to England without talking to you, without figuring this all out," he said.

And for a second he looks embarrassed, and does that terribly unfair thing where he rakes his hands through his hair, "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

_Oh my god._

"Mamoru, I want to stay and talk but... I have a job," I cringe and point to the HQ. "Naru is already glaring at me from in there." If by glaring you mean eagerly spying on, that is. But I need a break, I need air - I need to process all of this before I completely break down and propose marriage or something.

So, Mamoru stays and helps us and the other interns and volunteers with the take down, and he's really handy to have - especially since he's a head taller than me. A few times Naru eyes him behind his back and then looks at me with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smirk. 'So...?' she mimes, looking eager. 'Later,' I mouth to her. She gives me another pointed look and finally lets it drop.

So, after we are done for the day, Mamoru and I break off from the crowd and just aimlessly start walking down the street. For a while we just talk, banter a little... despite myself I am so happy to be in his company again. Because I really did miss him.

We end up tucked into a corner table at small cafe for dinner and it's over quiche and salad that the conversation finally turns toward us.

"Usako, I just. I don't know what we _are_ ," Mamoru admits, with a slight sigh. "I know I messed everything up by leaving the way I did. And I don't blame you if you want to just get closure and move on. You don't owe me anything." He looks at me and he's so sad and I just want to die, or kiss him, or both, I don't even know. "I just had to see you, at least one more time."

On one hand, it's true - if he hadn't left we could possibly have just seen how this turned out organically. But that's not what happened, and now to be honest I'm not sure what to feel.

Except, dammit, I really _do_ want him. Even now.

My mind begins to lecture me in tired circles like I've been doing for the past few months 'it was nothing, it was a fling, it means nothing, let him go', but now everything is different.

Because he came back for me.

_He came back for me._

"Jeeze, Mamoru, it's only until winter," I say, "I can _totally_ hold on until then." I scooch a little closer to him, until our arms are brushing and I can smell his scent and have to remind myself we are in a crowded cafe in the middle of the city. "Provided, of course, you make these next few days _count._ "

And, what the heck, I do it. I kiss him right there, in the cafe.

And I don't just kiss him, I do the whole pulling on his shirt collar to bring his head down to my level, open mouth, lean up and into, movie-style kiss. It's _awesome._ And I'm totally rewarded with a sound from deep in his throat, and those beautiful hands back in my hair, just for a moment, before he pulls away (with obvious reluctance). Well, I guess we _are_ in public.

We pay the check and he takes me back to his hotel - I know, I know, it sounds totally racy but he's literally _staying in a hotel_ \- his apartment is still being sub-let during his absence.

So it's not like it sounds. I mean, there are lots of things you can do in hotel rooms - we could've gotten cake from room service and watched an old movie on television. It's not as if we went and had crazy, no-holds-barred, mind-blowing sex, okay? As far as you know.

Still, in any case, there was definitely cake from room service, though, and that's the god's honest truth.

* * *

 

The next few months go faster, with texts from Mamoru who - at my insistence- mastered the tourist-selfie to a delightful degree (my favorite is the top half of his face, as he awkwardly posed by the Eiffel Tower on a trip to France), and late night phone calls. He has a really nice sleepy voice, and an even nicer 'I wish I was touching you right now' voice. It's so bizarre to have a long-distance flirtation that isn't a relationship but isn't... not. I worry a little about beautiful, smart, put-together girls at his school but not _too_ worried, I realize. Pretty girls come into the coffee shop all the time, and Mamoru only ever flirted with me. Somehow, I just brought out the worst (best?) in him.

Before I know it, it's winter and I'm waiting at the stupid airport like I'm in a movie, two coffee cups in my hand. One vanilla chai extra whip (that's half empty) and one mocha extra cream with 'Mamo-chan' scribbled on the side of the cup.

But as soon as he comes through from baggage claim, he lifts me up into this simply phenomenal, totally soul-searing kiss, and both cups end up falling to the floor. Best laid plans, right?

Oh well. I know a good coffee shop in town.


End file.
